


i think i wanna marry you;

by anakinleias



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, Romance, au if you want, but they don't know it, heteros on their bullshit, platonic activity, proposal-gate, tessa let me breathe challenge, well this escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 10:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinleias/pseuds/anakinleias
Summary: “You’re my best friend,” he’s slurring, arm thrown over her shoulders as he pulls her close, and she’s too numbed by the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed to truly feel the pain his words stir inside her chest. “We should get married.”/3 fake proposals and 2 real ones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I'll never read or write rpf ever" famous last words. Tessa, if you find your way into an account and read this, I'm so damn sorry.
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who helped with this, whether by actually giving me your input or just listening to me whine about it nonstop. You know who you are, and you rock.
> 
> The concept for this is literally "Joanne the Scammer meets 2008 serial proposer Robert Pattinson" and that's all you need to know.

i.

The first time is an accident. They’re enjoying a nice dinner at a restaurant on the other side of fancy, which means Tessa had to wear a dress and Scott had to trade comfy jeans for slacks. They drew the line at dressing up too much, reserving it for the many banquets and galas they had to attend constantly. They’re polishing off a bottle of wine and getting ready to ask for the check as a grinning waiter approaches their table with dessert they’d yet to order, retreating quickly before they can protest.

Tessa, never one to pass up on any kind of chocolate, turns to inspect the artfully decorated plate. She’s seen this on Instagram many times, the chocolate shell forming a dome over what’s usually ice cream underneath, with a small jug of some hot sauce that is meant to be poured on top. Reaching for it, she starts to pour it around the dome, watching as the hot caramel sauce drips all over the dome and it starts to collapse, revealing–

A ring.

Perched on top of the ice cream like a cushion, sits a beautiful princess cut diamond ring, the stone glinting on the light. She drops the jug and startles, looking up when she hears Scott’s gasp; he has a look of shock that she knows her face mirrors, and everyone at the restaurant is looking at them.

Tessa looks around and the entire restaurant is silent, the atmosphere feels heavy with _something_ , a sort of anticipation. Her eyes are wide, and she wants to explain that there must’ve been a mistake, they’re _best friends, it’s not like that._

But then she meets his eyes again and can’t hold it in. Scott’s mouth is twisting into a smile and she starts laughing, and then impulsively grabs the ring and puts in onto her finger and they’re both laughing, tears streaming down her cheeks. He’s looking at her, eyes shining in that beautiful way they do when he’s truly amused by something and her heart does a flip in her chest.

The other patrons are clapping happily around them, and the waiter returns with a bottle of champagne, wishing them congratulations.

By the time they’re finished with the bottle, the waiter informs them that their dinner was paid for, compliments of the couple that was seated three tables over to their left. They thank him, and she’s tipsy and snorting in laughter again because this entire situation is just messy and she honestly shouldn’t be wearing this ring clearly meant for another woman, or celebrating this occasion meant for another couple.

They leave full of giggles, and the next morning both feel guilty enough to return to the restaurant with grim faces as they explain it to the waiter, how they’re not even together and the proposal was a mistake. The waiter grimaces as he apologizes to them, tells them how the guy who organized the proposal called earlier to explain that they never made it to their reservation, how he caught his ex-future fianceé cheating on him and to throw the ring away because he doesn’t want to even look at it, and since he had it engraved, it’s not like he could take it back.

Tessa takes the ring out of her pocket and turns the band around to read the engraving, heart slamming against her ribcage as she spots the words: _until the end of time._

She motions to the waiter, intending to give him the ring. It’s not like she can keep it, it must’ve cost a small fortune and was never intended for her anyway. The waiter backs away, mumbling about how he doesn’t want that kind of karma before closing the side entrance door, leaving them stunned.

“Oh, a cursed ring!” Scott exclaims in an ominous voice, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Good thing we’re not getting married with that, right T?”

She does a double-take at the implication of his words, before plastering a smile to her face.

“Good thing, yeah.”

 

 

ii.

“You’re my best friend,” he’s slurring, arm thrown over her shoulders as he pulls her close, and she’s too numbed by the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed to truly feel the pain his words stir inside her chest. “We should get married.”

For some reason, that seems like a great idea. “Hold on,” she stumbles slightly as she reaches into her purse. “I still have it somewhere.”

She’s turning her bag upside down and spilling its contents across the tabletop before he catches sight of the glint of the ring and understands what she means, quickly pulling it out from among the miscellaneous items she feels the need to carry around. Tessa hums in approval and by the time she’s finished putting her things back into her bag, he’s slapping the counter loudly, nearly spilling his glass of beer in his haste. He’s yelling into the crowd as he waves the ring over his head, and if she were anywhere near sober she’d be hauling his ass out of the bar in embarrassment. But it doesn’t matter, because the Leafs won and she’s as drunk as he is.

“She said yes!” He doesn’t have to fake the elation he feels as he shouts the words for everyone to hear, the big smile that breaks across his face or the way his heart seems to radiate enough warmth to keep him cozy during the winter.

And then everyone is cheering, and she’s laughing because he didn’t even ask, but someone is shouting about a free round and the bartender is pouring drinks and Scott is squinting as he tries to slide the ring onto her – wrong – finger with great concentration. She places her hand over his, taking the ring before putting it herself on the right finger, can’t stop laughing because for some reason the entire thing seems hilarious. They do shots, and then someone slaps his back as they tell him to kiss the girl.

Tessa doesn’t have time to think about anything else before his lips are on hers, and it feels like jumping into a frozen lake and sitting by a bonfire at the same time. Her eyes flutter shut, hands coming up to interlace behind his neck as he grips her hips. He tastes like beer and tequila, and when he runs his tongue against her lips she feels even more buzzed.

By the time they break apart, the crowd’s gotten considerably louder and she feels her cheeks flush before taking another shot. She feels hazy, lips tingling and numb at the same time. Scott’s eyes are glassy, mouth forming a big grin around a fresh glass of beer.

Tessa’s staring at her left hand as it wraps around the next shot glass before Scott brings his own to cover it. He’s somehow standing behind her and she can’t help but lean back into his chest. He leans his head down to nuzzle her neck before whispering in her ear, breath hot against her skin.

“Cursed ring works every time.”

 

 

iii. 

Scotland is breathtaking. They’re in the Highlands, staying at an actual castle (!) in Fort William and it feels surreal. They actually arrived in a Rolls Royce sent by the hotel, and she giggled the entire time as she hummed the theme song from Outlander.

It feels like stepping out of time as she takes in the castle. It’s a place of quiet beauty, surrounded by forests. There’s green everywhere: the mountains that serve as backdrop, the trees that circle the property, the gardens full of flowers, the sprawling expanse of grass that ends in a beautiful lake and seems to merge into it. She’s never been so in awe.

 

They leave their bags in the double room they’d booked, seeing as the booking was quite pricey, taking turns taking a shower and changing out of their travel clothes before going down to eat. The hotel restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling French windows let the brisk morning air into the room, bathing it with natural light. Breakfast is absolutely delicious – she’s particularly fond of the huge coffee cups – with ham and goat cheese scones, poached eggs and smoked salmon crumpets, tall flutes of fresh orange juice which were actually mimosas and a variety of spiced butter and jam spreads to go along with the small bread basket at their table.

Afterwards they take time to relax and breathe in the fresh mountain air as they lounge on the chairs in the stone patio outside. Tessa brought down her book, and every few minutes enjoys taking a break to gaze at the beautiful garden in front of them. Everything feels so vivid, she always thought this only existed in technicolour that she used to see on every single TV whenever walking by an electronics store.

Scott’s seemingly wide awake from the short nap he’d been taking since they came down and he all but threw himself into the lounge chair. Eyes hidden by the pair of sunglasses, she lets herself look as he stretches. The hem of his long-sleeved shirt rides up as he brings his arms over his head, biceps outlined by the sleeves in a way that makes her mouth water. Behind his own pair of shades, she can’t see the knowing look in his eyes as he notices the way she swallows a few times, how he brings a hand up to his mouth to fake a yawn and cover a smile as she quickly turns back to her book.

She’s halfway into her fourth chapter before he breaks the peaceful silence.

“I’m gonna do it.”

“No.” She doesn’t need to look away from her book to know what he means.

“Yes.”

Tessa can hear the smile in his voice and it inadvertently makes her lips curl up. Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she puts her book down on her lap. It’s not like he’ll let her keep reading. She looks over at him, and he’s turned on his side towards her, hands curled up under his head like a sleeping child, a big grin on his face. “You’ve become obsessed.”

“Come on, you always have fun,” he’s sitting up now, and she somehow knows the next words that are coming out of his mouth before he even says them. “I got the cursed ring after that last time.”

They never talked about that night at the bar, about how the kiss felt electric, about how being in his arms felt like coming home. They don’t talk about kissing again, and they certainly don’t mention how much they want to. She doesn’t remember slipping it off her finger, only remembers waking up with a splitting headache and promising herself to never drink again. She lies to herself about many things.

He interrupts her train of thought. “Plus, we always get free stuff out of it.” She laughs at this, and his grin widens as he keeps going, “you can’t tell me that you never noticed. We’re in another country, live a little.”

“Fine.”

 

They return to the lobby in a flurry of giggles, the ring catching the light of the beautiful crystal chandeliers as she pats his cheek while he leaves tiny kisses that tickle her neck. She didn’t ask why he had the ring in the pocket of his jeans, just slipped it into her finger and grabbed his hand to pull him back inside.

“We’re getting married!”

Tessa’s lifting her hand and showing the ring off to the staff at the main desk as he bellows, dissolving into giggles once again. She turns her head to look at him just as he’s leaning in to kiss her cheek and ends up smiling against his lips.

She spins around the room, taking everything in. Their bags sit in the corner after the staff brought it into the honeymoon suite, a picnic basket sits on the center table as _compliments for your impending nuptials._ Peering into it he spots cheese, a variety of fruits, bread and jam, and even some chocolate. There’s a massive chilled bottle of champagne sitting beside it with two glasses and he uncorks it as she takes off her boots before throwing herself on the massive bed with a giggle.

Scott toes off his own shoes as he walks over to her, clumsily pouring the champagne and handing her one of the flutes. “To a happy marriage,” he toasts with a grandiose air, and she clinks their glasses with a laugh.

They lie side by side on the bed, reclined against the mountain of pillows, glasses abandoned on the nightstand as they pass the bottle back and forth. She watches his mouth curving around the lip of the bottle, hand wrapped around the neck tightly and for a moment pictures those fingers around her own neck and his mouth on hers.

Scott passes her the bottle, interrupting the string of filthy imagery running through her mind. Her gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the grand décor that still manages to make for an intimate atmosphere, the soft Egyptian cotton sheets with the obscene thread count and the fireplace roaring. It's the perfect place for romance. She contemplates the bottle, nail picking at the expensive label.

“Do you ever feel bad?”

Tessa doesn’t need to elaborate. He puts his arm around her and she curls up into him, finally bringing the bottle to her mouth. It’s empty, and she reaches behind her to put it away.

“Not really? It’s not like we’re making anyone do anything,” he looks down at her head on his chest. “I feel bad about _not_ feeling bad, does that make sense?”

She nods against his chest. “It’s harmless fun. No one’s getting hurt,” she mutters out after a yawn.

Sliding down the bed, he pulls her with him before throwing the covers over them and places a kiss on top of her head, softly inhaling the scent of her hair. As she settles more comfortably against him, hand on his chest and ring glinting in the muted light from the fire, she thinks back on her words and wonders if she truly meant them.

If she forgets to slip the ring off her finger before falling asleep in his arms, she blames it on the alcohol and exhaustion.

 

 

+i.

They’re making pasta for dinner, except _someone_ – Tessa – forgot to get the rigatoni earlier in the week, so Scott has to run out to the store. He leaves her cutting up the vegetables, her iPad open on the recipe. She slices the cauliflowers and arranges them on the skillet to fry over medium heat until they’re golden, setting them aside before moving back to the cutting board. Scott is an excellent teacher, patiently walking her through the simple things, learning new recipes and developing their skills together. And although they don’t always end up perfectly, she loves the process of cooking with him.

By the time he returns, arms laden with grocery bags, she’s almost done sautéing everything to perfection. His shoes get kicked off beside hers on the mat and he throws his keys in the leaf-shaped bowl on the table by the entrance, a housewarming gift from her sister when she moved to Montreal.

Adding the garlic, she leaves it for another minute and grabs the rigatoni he’s pulling from the bag and setting on the counter. Dumping half of the package into the water – stirring occasionally so the noodles won’t stick together –, she pulls the wine glasses from the cupboard, setting them on the counter as he opens the bottle of dry white. Scott fills their glasses halfway and she dumps a bit of hers into the pan with the turkey and vegetables, scraping the brown from the bottom and turning it off to wait for the pasta to finish cooking.

Scott comes up beside her, places his empty glass on the countertop and glances at the stove before looking over at the iPad screen, moving to add in the cauliflower as she stirs. Setting the bowl in the sink with the other dirty dishes, he goes about cleaning up as much as he can before the food is done so they won’t have a pile of dirty dishes to do later, something neither of them is ever enthused about leaving overnight or doing before bed.

The silence between them feels companionable, Stevie Nicks’ voice in the background soothing over the sounds of the city as Tessa sips the wine. Drying his hands in a dish towel, he stands behind her as she stirs the pasta, reaching around her arms and adding in the pecorino cheese and the olives, ripping a few parsley leaves and sprinkling salt and pepper into the sauce. He stirs the pot with a wooden spoon, bringing it up to her lips so she can taste it before doing the same himself. She hums her approval, nudging him gently so she can strain the pasta in the sink. Instead of letting her go, he wraps his arms around her tighter, making her giggle as he places tiny kisses on her neck, his breath tickling her skin.

Stepping back, he lets her take the pot with the pasta to strain and moves the skillet to the still lit burner, setting it on low. Quickly dumping the pasta on the strainer, she sets the pot aside, beaming at how the noodles didn’t clump.

She motions the strainer to him, but he takes it out of her hands and sets it aside, once again wrapping her in his arms. She closes her eyes with a sigh, opening them again when she feels the vibrations of his voice softly muttering her name against her neck.

Hands on her hips, he squeezes her sides gently and she turns to look at him. He’s giving her the most beautiful look she’s ever seen, all soft eyes and loving smile. He reaches into his pocket and she just _knows._

It’s the cursed ring. He’s proposing, and it’s their ring, and at this point she should be used to it but it’s real this time and it’s perfect.

“All those times I never actually asked, so I’m gonna do this right,” he gets down on one knee, and she can feel the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never got to hear an answer, but I hope the outcome is still the same. Will you marry me?”

She’s nodding before he even finishes asking, and he stands up to slide it onto her finger. Another thing they never got to do. She always did it herself to avoid having to think about it more than she already did. Didn’t need the phantom feeling of his hand on her own as he placed the ring on her finger, the warmth of his palm as he covered her own. She looks down now, and it’s a familiar sight; the beautiful princess cut diamond sitting on her finger, the inscription against her finger and the history behind it. Their cursed ring started everything, and she loves him for making sure it’s the one that will sit on her finger forever.

He’s smiling, and she can’t help but laugh through her tears. God, how she loves him. Grabbing his face, she presses her smile into his own as she whispers.  

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Tessa’s turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tessa let me breathe challenge. Big thanks to Tina for reading through this.
> 
> If one more person tells me she read this I'm gonna lose it.

+ii. 

Hamilton is electric. It feels like a nice way to come back from Toronto, where the crowd – while enthusiastic – felt slightly off. They didn’t learn until intermission about the incident at the arena and didn’t understand its proportions until long after the show was over. It’s disappointing, they all feel like they let people down and don’t know what to do about it. 

The Hamilton performance is being filmed for broadcasting at CBC, and their mothers are in the audience so by unspoken agreement, they decide to tone down certain moments as much as they can. 

It backfires beautifully. 

It’s truly not his fault; his hand has a mind of its own, even with her own guiding it to the side, his fingers wander unconsciously as his nose skims the back of her neck. He hears her sharp inhale and that’s when he knows to overcorrect, but by then the damage is done. Not only have people seen, but they’ve filmed it on their phones and the CBC cameras. Fuck.

 

_ “Get married!” _

It comes as a shout from the audience, and it sparks an immediate reaction from the crowd. There are screams and laughs everywhere, permeating the arena and making the cold air heavy with anticipation for their response. This is nothing new, they’ve dealt with this subject in the form of press questions, coy suggestions and even in this same capacity and usually have a go-to strategy: redirect, and if all else fails deny, deny, deny. 

“‘Get married’?” He repeats aloud, his hand holding the mic with a death grip. Tessa’s scanning the audience for the origin, eyes wide in fake astonishment as she glides around, both of them laughing with the audience. 

Scott doesn’t know why he acknowledges it out loud; they’re both in a position to just ignore it and continue on with the show, chalk it up to performance excitement and redirect the conversation by focusing on the audience itself. But he has acknowledged it, and neither are saying a word. They skate around each other aimlessly as the crowd continues to scream before meeting in the middle, seemingly prepared to move on after that moment. 

Tessa’s tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as he turns to her, his mouth opening to make a quip and change the subject when she starts to go down, and for a dizzying moment his entire being is flooded with worry and panic. He sees her younger face superimposed, going down hard after coming out of a twizzle, sees her eyes well up as he skates to her, too late to do anything but watch as she clutches her right calf which has gone numb. 

Blinking back to the present, he focuses on her face in front of him. Older, more mature and still infinitely beautiful. Her eyes – green, gorgeous green – are shining but with mischief, and in the place of a tightly clenched jaw to stop herself from sobbing, she’s dazzling him with a beautiful smile. She’s getting down on one knee – not completely, since she’s digging her toepick into the ice, but her intent is clear. He can’t help but grin, barely registers as the crowd gets impossibly louder. 

Reaching for her hand, he plays up the moment for a second longer whilst offering to help her up. She holds his hand instead, not budging. Scott stares at her, and she lifts an eyebrow, head tilting to the side and he feels like he’s missing something crucial until she pulls a silver band out from the cup of her sticky bra – how exactly did she manage that, and without him noticing? – and she’s placing it in his hand, covering it with her own gently. She doesn’t say a word, just looks at him. 

That’s all it takes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP in peace everyone, I'll remember all of you in therapy.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Marry You by Bruno Mars.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, as are kudos and comments.
> 
> (If you know me from twitter keep quiet about it.)


End file.
